


Loopy

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:39:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John's on pain meds, he gets a little... well, loopy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loopy

Sherlock raced down the hall, jogging to a stop in front of Lestrade. “John?”

“He’s fine, but Sherlock, John’s a bit out of it. They gave him some strong pain meds and they’re going to take a while to wear off. Nothing to be worried about.”

Sherlock frowned, craning his neck to try and peer into the room. “Out of it?”

“Y’know… loopy.” Lestrade grinned. “He’s been a laugh riot while we’ve been waiting for you, and I’m sure he’ll be glad that you’re here. Just figured I’d give you a heads up so you don’t just assume brain damage.”

Still giving Lestrade a confused look, Sherlock entered the hospital room. John lay propped up on pillows, his movements sluggish as he brought a cracker to his mouth. He missed twice before finally finding his target, chewing slowly, his eyes half-mast and dazed.

“John?”

Instead of moving his eyes, John rolled his head along the pillow, looking over at Sherlock for a long moment, eyes squinting and brow knit as the other man approached. His face lit up in a grin as Sherlock stopped next to him. “Did the doctor send you?”

Eyebrow raising, Sherlock looked over to Lestrade in confusion.

“Man, you are _hot_ ,” John gestured widely, his hand flopping limply. “You’re the hottest bloke I’ve ever seen.” His limp hand made it to his face where he rubbed at his eyes and up towards the stitches above, Sherlock caught his hand and pulled it away. “Are you like a model? What’s your name?”

Lestrade barely held back his giggles, “That’s Sherlock. He’s your husband.”

John lazily rolled his head towards Lestrade before his eyes widened, moving back to Sherlock. “You’re _my_ husband? Fuck…” a long pause and a loopy giggle. “I hit the _jackpot_!”

Sherlock barely contained a grin as John rolled his head back and forth for a moment, giving out little humming giggles, Lestrade covering his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh. “Here, have another cracker.” Sherlock took one from the paper plate next to John’s bed, lifting it towards the other man’s mouth.

“Have we kissed yet?” John’s lips moved against the cracker as he spoke. Sherlock pushed it into his mouth and John bit down, chewing slowly before swallowing and looking back up at him. “How long’ve we been married?”

“Three years this June.”

John grinned again, rolling his head back on the pillow, “Fuckin’ _jackpot_.” He accepted another cracker, attempting to crane his neck to see Sherlock’s back, but was unable to lift his head. “Turn ‘round so I can see you.”

“John, eat your cracker.”

Another moment of chewing and Sherlock dutifully ignored the fact that Lestrade now had his phone out, pointed at John as his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. 

“Did I get you that ring? I must love you _so_ much… god, you’re hot.” John sighed, resting against the pillow for a long moment with his eyes closed. “Bet your arse is fantastic.”

Lestrade snorted. “Sherlock, turn around.”

“Stop filming,” the detective put a glass of water to John’s mouth, letting him take slow sips. 

“Not a chance in hell. Turn around.”

John grinned, “Yeah, turn around. Your husband says to.”

Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes upward before raising his arms and slowly turning in place.

“Awww yeaaah…” John giggled. “Do it again.”

“This is ridiculous.” Sherlock huffed.

“Nah, you’ve got a nice arse.”

Sherlock stared at Lestrade, brows knit.

Shrugging, Lestrade grinned. “What? Guy can’t appreciate nice things? Do it for John.”

John hummed, eyes closed as he leaned back. “My head hurts.”

Immediately stroking a hand through John’s hair, Sherlock cooed softly. “Go to sleep, I’ll get your discharge papers ready for when you wake up.”

A sleepy sigh, “Then I can kiss you, right?”

Sherlock smiled, “Yes, John, then you can kiss me.”


End file.
